Observing life: Little things from home carry a lot of substance

Right now, many expats are returning to the UAE after their annual holidays home. For many, summers are often reserved for trips to see parents, siblings and grandparents who seem to age exponentially in the year we’ve been away.

We all go to our own corner of the world on these holidays, but we’re all after the same thing. We crave the familiarity and the comfort of the country, the city, the street we call home. We know our holiday will go by too fast. We know we need to pack in as many memories as possible while we’re there. And many of us go with a list of essential items to bring back. It’s interesting to hear what that list entails, what people deem important enough to take the time to find (and buy) during an already too-short trip.

This summer, I'm bringing back an assortment of goods. Among them: food-colouring paste in a range of 24 colours so I can properly decorate my kids' birthday cakes; clear vanilla extract so I can keep white icing on those cakes perfectly white; my favourite taco seasoning; my favourite ranch-dressing powder; the latest version of America's Test Kitchen cookbook; and cheese curd (a delicacy in the upstate New York town where I grew up).

There are many more things on my list and not one of them is necessary. Not one is essential for a productive, happy life. So why do I – why do we all – make a point of stuffing our suitcases full of such trivial things?

Because we need them. Not to survive, but to feel connected. For me, these tastes of home remind me of the people I love, the people I’ve left behind, the people I’ve shared that food with. There are so many things I can’t bring back with me – I just simply need something tangible to hold on to.

I can’t pack the way it feels when my mum hugs me hello. I can’t pack the way her hands feel or the smell of her as she walks past. I can’t pack the tender sweetcorn or the taste of the fresh strawberries that grow in my dad’s garden. I can’t pack the everyday moments with my siblings that are what my best memories are made of. And every time I leave, I worry it’s the last time I’ll see my 93-year-old grandmother.

So what do I have? Ranch-dressing powder to make my mum’s favourite pasta salad; the same food colour­ing my mum used when making my childhood birthday cakes; an American cookbook to recreate the meals I’ve shared with family; cheese curd for a familiar taste of my small, comfortable hometown. I don’t need these things, but I do need the way they make me feel.

I love the UAE. It’s a beautiful country and it’s filled with opportunities and a sense of security that my family might not have had if we had stayed in the United States. But we all need to feel like we’re in a place we belong, a place where we’re important. My mum’s house will always be that place for me.

I may not be able to zip mum up in my suitcase and bring her back here, but this year I do plan to make it back with a scarf or a shirt that carries her smell – for the times when I miss her and need home the most.